Here's more to add to my Spring post. I've managed to get up off my big ass and do a little more good old fashioned picture taking. (Again, I think the pictures look better if you click on them and scroll through.)

We had found this nest of Mocking Birds earlier and kept an eye on it. These two are almost ready to fly, they are actually sitting out of the nest on a branch.

Here's the rear view. (Chick butt) Mike made a comment about how they had no tail feathers yet. Hmm.......

Meanwhile, this squirrel thinks I can't see him.

Grackle on a fence post.

I need to get back to my roots, taking pictures of birds at the feeder. This is a Mourning Dove seriously nomming out!

I think Mike was right. I found one of the Mocking Birds on the ground under the nest today.

Here he is just hanging out on a rock.

And now for something completely different.

He's flicking his tail at me!

This is Stubby. He is a baby pine tree.

A couple of playful butterflies in the mud.

Your average Grackle at the feeder.

He gave up and decided to take a nap.

And one last shot of the baby Mocking bird who couldn't fly. I'll have to go check up on him here in a little bit. I don't want the hawk to get him.

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Hopefully this is the last cold front for the year. I know everybody is ready for some Spring like weather. Here's a handful of photos to get you into the mood.

If you know me at all you know that I hate doctors and there's many reasons for that. Here's 3 reasons why that has affected me deeply over the years.

1. There are exceptions to the rule but for the vast majority of doctors that I have run across in my life, they all have a "god complex". They are so used to telling scared patients what to do and those patients are so much in awe and scared silly that they never question the doctor. Lo and behold, here I come asking questions and actually thinking for myself, said doctor gets his nose out of joint. Hello? You work for me, buddy boy! I pay you, and quite a bit for your services. I pay you to diagnose and suggest a treatment. If I agree to the treatment I pay you for that also. You do not decide for me and you do NOT get your panties in a wad if I decide to go a different route.

2. As we get older more people we know are having some serious health issues but... it seems they go in to the doctor with one issue and come out with seven more issues than when they went in. I think there is some serious over-diagnosing going on and I really don't trust it. And THEN they charge you out the ass for it all!

3. I am deathly afraid of needles and with (I think) good reason. When I was 13 or so I had to go to the dentist for the first time. I had to have 2 root canals. The dentist (who shall remain nameless) came at me with this giant needle, the kind with finger grips, and he proceeded to jab it into my soft gums! He's sticking me and shaking and wiggling it around, very painful. This is supposed to deaden the gums so I don't feel the root canal? (What the hell? Can I have something to deaden the feel of the damned needle?) Then he starts digging around for the root canal? Sheer torture and I started to cry. The dentist looked at me and said, "Aw, it isn't that bad!" Even the nurse was unsympathetic. Years later I had to watch 3 nurses and Chris' grandma hold him down (He was maybe a year old?) to give him a shot in the ass with that same huge needle with the finger grips. It was barbaric! Thank goodness that Mike was around later for Chris to get his booster shots. I just could not handle it. What is it with these people that think it's okay to jab someone else with a sharp instrument and act like it doesn't cause severe pain!

Updated part!!!!!!

My mind has a tendency to protect me. When I wrote this I completely forgot about this. When I was 9 or 10 I had some severe abdominal pains. My mother, knowing that her mother had died at a very young age of a burst appendix, brought me to the emergency room. For no other reason than to cover their asses, seeing as there was no immediate problem, I was admitted for observation. They got me settled in and a very young, nice nurse came in to insert the IV. She was very calm and told me that this was going to hurt a little bit. She also said that she was new and if she couldn't do it this big nurse was going to come in and do it for her. Okay.... she tried and it hurt a little, no big deal, but I guess she couldn't hit the vein. She left and sure enough here comes this giant fat nurse. She waddles in and without a word, jerks me around and garbs my arm and slaps the tourniquet on pinching the hell out of my skin. I'm screaming for Mom by now but they had made her leave the room. She jabs the needle in my arm and I scream. Not a good memory. (Bitch!)

Okay, I'm not just on a rant today. I have a reason for this. You see, a couple of months back I was having some troubles with my heart. At first it was a fluttering feeling that just was distracting. It happened a couple of times, no big deal. And then it would start again and last for a couple of days. That's a bit more serious. Sometimes it would feel like my heart was racing and it might last for just an hour or so. Sometimes it would feel like all of the above with a little pressure in the chest. And I didn't want to say that because everybody would immediately say, "Run to the emergency room, NOW, you're having a heart attack and you're going to die NOW!" Eventually it got to where it was just a constant thing and Mike and I decided I probably needed to go the (dreaded) doctor.

I didn't make an appointment. I just could not bring myself to do so voluntarily. I did the next best thing. I Googled it.

Looking through a lists of things that might be my problem I noticed one thing they all had in common. Alcohol and caffeine! I am severely guilty of both. Ever since Mike and I have moved to Florida we have been imbibing on a grand scale. Hardly a day goes by that we do not have a drink or two, or three, or four. And what does one drink with it? Well, I have a serious Diet Coke habit and that's above and beyond what I use to make a mixed drink. Mmmm, I love a cold can of Diet Coke. Oh wait, there's also that 3/4's of a pot of coffee every morning, too! DAMN!

So I jumped on the wagon about a week ago. Cut out coffee in the morning, too, went to decaf. No Diet Coke at all! I bought me some caffeine free generic coke to tide me over. And guess what? Well, for the first three days I had severe headaches! That's the caffeine withdrawal. I had no idea I was drinking that much. My heart was still thumping a bit, too. But by the fourth day I only felt it a once or twice and after that.... not at all. BINGO!

I've been good for a week or more. Last night I imbibed, partly to see if my heart would start racing and fluttering again and partly because I damned well wanted a drink. Mike and I had a good time, you see, he had jumped on the wagon with me to help. No caffeine, though, just booze. I'm good so far. Let's blame the Diet Coke. I put Google to the test again and, lo and behold, turns out that coffee is the main culprit. Hmm, so if I switch to only decaf coffee in the mornings and limit my Diet Coke to only 2 or 3 a day then I am good to go. It turns out that an 8 ounce cup of joe can have anywhere from 100 to 200 mgs of caffeine depending on the blend, as compared to a 12 once can of Diet Coke at only 45 mgs. (Classic and Zero are even less.) The suggested amount of caffeine per day is 200 to 300 mgs, no more.

Soooo, I may have this mastered. I will continue to watch the alcohol and caffeine intake but for now I do NOT have to go see that (dreaded) doctor!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(All this is good for different reasons, because as of right now (due to some serious slick dealing which is a separate addiction) I am sitting on 37 (yes, thirty-seven) 12 packs of Diet Coke.)

I know there are several of you that would encourage me to go see a doctor anyway. Don't bother, unless you can refer me to one who will actually treat me as if I have a brain, who will NOT willy-nilly over diagnose me and then over charge me, and certainly one, as a matter of course, who will NOT come at me with an arsenal of sharp instruments, I'm not biting.